No prompts today – not even sure where this came from. It just started out as an idea for a first line and carried on from there. Thoughts welcome – if you can guess the context I’ll be impressed!
She gritted her teeth and pushed herself up again. Sweat poured down her now beetroot-shaded face. Her arms shook but held as she lowered down again, resting briefly before starting all over again. Every push back up attempted to break the overriding sense of having being punched in the windpipe.
She never stopped to wonder why. She just felt the pain. This was the only answer. Her only short-term solution. If she pushed herself hard enough she could block out the feelings of nausea and gut-wrenching agony that had become her daily routine. Push until the physical pain masks the emotional. No pain, no gain.
Naively she thought they had all been on her side. All part of the gang. Then she’d stepped out to take one for the team, just to show that she really cared, that she was just as good as them, and they’d viciously stabbed her in the back. They’d only really ever wanted to send her packing and now they had the perfect excuse. She’d failed, and now they were laughing in her face. She saw their expressions every time she closed her eyes. They haunted her dreams and her every move was watched, criticised, challenged.
She pushed up again. One more, just one more. With giant effort she pushed herself back up to her full height, grabbing a towel and rubbing it across her face. Today was the day. The day that everything would change. She was ready.